Wednesday, September 7, 2016

When You Want to Write a Complaint Letter, But Can't Find the Time...

... this website has your back. Enter the target of your complaint letter, some basic information, and preferred length, and it does the rest for you. Just for fun, I had it write one against me:

This is to voice my dissatisfaction with Dr. Sara Locatelli's apothegms. I begin with critical semantic clarifications. First, in order to convince us that it's okay to leave the educational and emotional needs of our children in the maladroit hands of the most spleeny pronks you'll ever see, Dr. Locatelli often turns to the old propagandist trick of comparing results brought about by entirely dissimilar causes. Thanks to her, we're all in a freefall into a pit of expansionism. By the way, saying that last sentence out loud is a nice way to get to the point quickly at a cocktail party. For all intents and purposes, she wants us to feel sorry for the vile beatniks who galvanize the filthy herd into enthusiastically supporting her yellow-bellied, crime-stained endeavors. I, speaking as someone who is not a dimwitted paper-pusher, insist we should instead feel sorry for their victims, all of whom know full well that Dr. Locatelli's allocutions are like the Hydra from Greek mythology. They continually acquire new heads and new strength. The only way to stunt their growth is to accentuate our universal humanity. The only way to destroy Dr. Locatelli's Hydra entirely is to provide more people with the knowledge that she has made some imprecise statements and statements that ought to have had all sorts of qualifications and reservations attached to them. I'll go further: Her diegeses have caused widespread social alienation, and from this alienation a thousand social pathologies have sprung.

If one needs a sign that Dr. Locatelli is abominable, then consider that she has been going around claiming that students should be molded into “change agents” to promote her misguided, drugged-out agenda. When challenged about the veracity of that message, Dr. Locatelli attributed its contradictions of the truth to “poetic license”. That means “lying”. Now that I've had a chance to cogitate, let me see if I have her argument correct: Dr. Locatelli seems to be saying that her tirades provide a liberating insight into life, the universe, and everything. Well, Dr. Locatelli can believe whatever she wants, but we all know that the truth is that like a verbal magician, Dr. Locatelli knows how to lie without appearing to be lying, how to bury secrets in mountains of garbage-speak. Believe it or not, a few unregenerate, garrulous big-labor bosses actually want her to get as many people as possible to line up behind the geek-tent barkers at the latest and greatest carnival of stoicism. In my view, this is a consummate outrage, an unmitigated despotism, an unparalleled infamy, and an atrocious crime.

We have to set an example. If we do, others will follow, and soon everyone will be leading her out of a dream world and back to hard reality. This is an encouraging prospect, especially given that Dr. Locatelli used to maintain that poststructuralism is indispensable for the formation of citizens and for the preservation of our free institutions. However, after my last letter so eloquently put a lie to that, Dr. Locatelli and her bedfellows have busily if rather quietly gone to work on their palinodes—amending here, canceling there, and generally trying to conceal the fact that in a vain effort to exculpate herself, Dr. Locatelli has been proclaiming to the world that she has done no wrong. Rather, it was her mercenaries who have been cultivating an unhealthy sense of victimhood. I suppose the next thing she'll have us believe is that she should be a given a direct pipeline to the national treasury. Dr. Locatelli is unhappy that people like me want to challenge paternalism and thereby create the possibility of justice and fairness in our society. Such cavils notwithstanding, if her perceptions get any more pro-censorship, I expect they'll grow legs and attack me in my sleep. Until we address this issue, we will never move beyond it.

If you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner, thinking about what I've done...